


Goodnight, My Angel

by 1f_this_be_madness



Series: Beyond the Rhapsody [12]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Ben is a sweetheart, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Father Figures, Freddie's death is major for Roger, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Rog is such a dad, Sleepy Cuddles, Swearing, The most irascible dad ever, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20662031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: Sometimes it isn't apparent what someone means until a moment of clarity. Sometimes it takes a series of moments, and sometimes those moments stretch out for what seems like forever because a person keeps himself bottled up tight. Sometimes it's best to move forward in life alone....But sometimes, it's a real bitch being alone.(Or Roger Taylor sometimes manages to emote, and this time he's got Ben.)





	Goodnight, My Angel

Roger kisses Ben's forehead one evening, after Ben had worried about something and freaked out for so long that he exhausted himself and fell asleep. 

Upon learning of Ben's state of mind the Queen drummer chuckles and shakes his head fondly. Dips his face to brush his lips to the skin of the young man's forehead, which is smoothed out now in his unconscious state. Ben's nose wrinkles as the white whiskers of Roger's beard briefly tickle his face.

Roger intends to peck Ben's forehead and move back, but something about the sight of the young man's soft features in the moonlight and all of his affection for him has the drummer cupping Ben's cheeks and lengthening the kiss a bit. A soft press of lips ghosts along Ben's hairline before Roger closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Ben's. The other remains still, though he is no longer asleep as he feels the gentle strength of Roger's calloused fingers cupped around his face.

"Dear lad," Roger's voice is so quiet it is only barely audible. Ben wants, aches, yearns to respond, to say something, even open his eyes. But he's afraid to spook Roger, afraid that if he is awake the other would not act this way or say such things. So he swallows and breathes, trying to stay still and quiet, to appear asleep.

Roger strokes back the young man's blond hair, hand slightly trembling as his lips now do. He is grateful for this boy who had brought him to life and given him a new set of wonderful memories that remind him of life with his old friends. He wants to express this, but cannot find any words immediately, none but "Ben, son, thank you. I'll never forget what you and the other lads have done. It's really something." He moves back now with a final stroke of the young man's hair, and his voice is gone. He said what he could. Just wishes Ben had heard it.

Then Roger seats himself beside the young man on the couch he's resting upon. Ben still seems asleep after Roger tells him thank you. The drummer starts shaking and covers his face with his hand as he thinks of his last angel, his Freddie, who'd done so much for him and is now gone, though he remains always in Roger's heart. Where Ben is too, now. Wiping tears from his face, Roger shifts and wraps his arm around Ben, pulling him into his chest, letting Ben rest his cheek over Roger's rapidly-beating heart. 

And in a tone of voice quiet and wrecked, glad no one hears this weakness, Roger whispers, almost whimpers: "Oh, Ben. Don't leave me, lad." Roger's voice breaks, and his "Please," is begged in silence. He continues to shake as he holds Ben close, running a hand up and down Ben's arm, and Ben shifts with a little noise, almost sounding like a groan. Roger freezes, seeing Ben's blue-green eyes open, appearing glassy with tears of his own. How much had he heard? Apparently enough, because Ben lifts his head a bit. Just a bit. 

Licking his lips, he presses his hand to Roger's chest, as he'd already been resting it there. His low voice is steady, certain, soft. "Don't worry, Roger," Ben utters, swallowing hard as his fingers convulsively clutch the cloth of Roger's shirt. "...I won't."

Roger Taylor, irascible Roger Taylor, strong Roger Taylor, lets out an uncontrollable sob and buries his face in Ben's shoulder. Ben keeps clutching at him as the Queen drummer responds, voice thick and choked by tears, "...thank fucking god."

Ben is never going to forget this and he's also never going to talk about it to anyone. It’s too private of a moment, too intensely personal. He just holds onto Roger, one hand clutching his shirt, the other arm wrapped around him as the older man cries quietly into his shoulder. 

Eyes wide, Ben swallows hard, trying desperately to figure out what else he can do, if anything. He holds Roger as he cries and says "Roger, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over. 

Ben's deep voice chokes, tears filling his eyes and spilling onto his full cheeks as he holds Roger, helpless, having no idea what to do. He just hates to see Roger in so much pain and has no idea how to help him. He doesn't realize he is saying anything until Roger sniffs and lifts his head, wiping tears from his cheeks. "Fuck, what are you sorry for, Ben? I should be the one apologizing for starting a bloody flood in here!"

"No," Ben sniffs and shakes his head, voice cracking. "No, oh god, Roger, you've got nothing to apologize for. I just-- I'm sorry you're feeling this way. I wish I... I really want to help." His eyes are piteous. "How can I help you, Roger? Just tell me-- tell me what to do."

Roger swallows, opening and closing his mouth before lifting a trembling hand to the side of Ben's head. He curls his fingers around the young man, holding his cheek and hair, and Ben closes his eyes for an instant. He opens them again as Roger strokes his hair affectionately. "Ah, lad," Roger says. "Just holding on to you is a help." He blinks as though unsure and stops talking, shifting as if to take his hand away and move, get up, leave. 

Ben raises his own hand to cover Roger's. "If you want to keep on doing that, it's fine," he says. "I don't mind."

A joyous expression crosses Roger's face, lighting up his red-rimmed eyes for an instant as he keeps hold of Ben's head and pulls him close again, Ben burrowing into Roger's chest of his own accord this time, and Roger lies down a bit, stretching out his stiffening legs onto the couch where Ben had been sleeping and which he sank onto. "Thank you, Ben," he whispers, heart full. Bless this boy for being here. For being who he is, all he is. 

Ben smiles, overjoyed to be able to do something, anything for this man who he admires so much. He cuddles close and throws caution to the winds: "Anytime, Rog."

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to my dear friend and her appreciation of my work. Vi, you are utterly extraordinary.
> 
> My thanks to Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy for being lovely and for being the best irascible father figure and sweet sonlike duo I could ever imagine. Ben was born the same year as Rog's son Rufus, after all :)
> 
> The title of this piece is from a song by Billy Joel entitled "Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel)" that my friend says makes her think of Ben and Roger, and upon listening to it, I thought of them as well.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, loves! Reactions appreciated <3


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